The Enchantress Bay and her Bewitched Moving Castle
by sconesRtasty
Summary: Walter is a small town boy working in his father's cobbler shop. He is as plain and boring as they come (in his own opinion), just like his plain and boring life. But when he is dragged into a strange conflict between the mysterious witch Bay and the Wizard of the Wasteland that causes him to be transformed into an old man, life is anything but boring. Re-written genderbent HMC!
1. Strangers

The south-headed train running through the small town of Market Chipping blew its deep whistle, belching dark smoke into the clear blue sky. It passed beneath the small town bridge and caused pedestrians to scatter, shaking the window of the old Cobbler shop. Inside, Walter tugged a lace through another hole along the tongue of the shoe he was working on. The chatter of the other boys working in the shop floated in from the other room and his thoughts were interrupted by a rap on the open door.

"Walter?" Ben called in. "We just closed up the shop. You've been working all day, and the boys and I were going to go for a drink. You should come."

Walter shook his head. "No, I have to finish this," he said, holding up the shoe he was currently lacing. "You go have fun, though."

Ben shrugged. "Well, suit yourself. Come on guys, lets go," he said as he walked away. Walter shook his head and went back to pulling through the thin straps of leather. Outside his room he could hear the rest of them getting ready to leave.

Just before the boys were to head out the door, someone called out, "Look! It's Bay's Castle!" A small cry went up and the whole group came running back inside, trying to catch a glimpse of the Witch Bay's Moving Castle. Curious, Walter leaned forward to look out his front window towards the hills that the boys were pointing at. And there, a tiny speck in the distance, was the giant mass of rooms, boilers and engines piled onto the four skinny little legs that held up the giant Moving Castle. It was a wonder anyone could call it that. It just looked like a mess to Walter.

As it faded into the fog, Walter could hear Ben calling the others. "Alright, it's gone. Now come on." Reluctantly, the boys tore their eyes from the windowsill and picked back up on their usual chatter.

"Did you hear what happened to that guard in North Haven?" one of them said to the other. "I heard Bay charmed him over a cup of tea before literally ripping his heart out!"

"I'm not sure I want to go out now with her so close," said their youngest apprentice.

"Don't worry, she only hunts out the brave ones," one of the older boys teased. They all burst out laughing at the apprentice's pitiful attempt at a playful punch in the arm as they all headed outside, the door shutting behind them.

Walter sighed and finished tying a knot in the shoes before setting them next to the rest of the loafers he had finished that day. He hopped down from his stool, brushing off his trousers and untying his apron. He set it aside and gave his new vest a tug over his white shirt before grabbing the keys and heading towards the door. Once outside he quickly crossed the busy street and managed to get one of the last spots on the trolley headed downtown. Admittedly, he was hanging off the edge of the stairs, but it was better than walking.

Downtown was a mess. A stream of tanks were headed off to the war, their loyal soldiers marching in formation right behind. The large crowds seeing them off cheered and threw confetti at the ranks, hats flying and flags waving. Walter managed to avoid most of the havoc but had to take many back alleys. The occasional employee spent their break out here, but most people were at the parade. Walter checked the small map from his pocket and took a right at the next fork he came to.

This part of the alleys seemed mostly deserted, so Walter was surprised at the sight of two young women in flouncy dresses smoking cigars on empty wooden crates. He looked back down to avoid meeting their gaze, but immediately knew there was no ignoring it when one of the said, "Oh, look, this one's lost," to the other.

Walter kept his eyes on the paper, but was forced to look up when they stood and blocked his path. "Excuse me," he mumbled, staring at the ground.

"Oh, come on, let's see those pretty brown eyes." A long red nail tilted his chin up and forced him to look. The first woman was in a daring shin-length blue dress and had hair piled up on her head, her make-up large and dramatic. But it was nothing compared to the other's. Her outfit was a similar style, but in a deep red. Her hair was also on her head. But along her right eye her eyeliner had winged out and swooped down to create a bright winged bird along the apple of her cheek. It was too dramatic, Walter thought, calling for too much attention.

Walter pulled his head away from her hand and returned to looking at the ground. "Please, I'm just going to see my brother," he mumbled.

The girls ignored him, turning to each other. "Well, he is rather scrawny," said the one in blue.

"Yes, but he's all right," said the other. She moved her head closer to Walter's face, giving him a clear view of her exuberant make-up. He took a step back.

"You see?" the first said with a smile. "Your make-up scares off all the boys."

"No matter, I like him better when he's scared," said the second, tilting her face to give him a better look.

"There you are, darling," said another female voice, causing the two girls to look up. Walter felt an arm slide through his, forcing him to lift his elbow a few inches. "Sorry I'm late, I've been looking everywhere for you."

Walter cast a glance in the direction of the new comer. She was wearing well-fitting black slacks, highly unusual for a woman, and tall boots that gave a small click when she walked. He felt a sleeve brush his back, but her arm was in his, her pink and blue patterned jacket hanging from her shoulders. "Hey, we're busy here," one of the women said, suddenly catty.

"Oh, really?" the stranger said sweetly. "It looked like you were just leaving." With her arm still in his, she gave a flick of her finger. The two women suddenly straightened with a small cry before turning around and deftly walking back into the shop they had come from, giving out yells of protest.

"Don't hold it against them," the woman at his arm said. "They're really not all that bad." Walter finally looked at her face. Her choppy, unorthodox blond hair brushed her shoulders, and a few loose bangs fell in front of her incredible blue eyes. She was shorter than he was, but her confident, straight back and high head in comparison to his usual slouch made it hard to tell. She looked at him. "Do me a favor and be my escort for this evening?" she asked pleasantly. Walter felt himself nod, unsure of what else to do, and together they set off down the alley.

"Uh," Walter started, then cleared his throat. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh, no where in particular," she said, seemingly oblivious that she had just asked him to join her. "What about you?"

"Er, just the local pub," Walter said.

"Mm," the woman said, sounding uninterested. She took a moment to look curiously at the sky and surrounding buildings. After a moment she returned her gaze to the path in front of them, addressing Walter. "Don't be alarmed, but I am being followed," she said casually. "Just act natural." Walter did just the opposite, his eyes widening. "Oh, no need for that," she said, seeming to read his thoughts. "You shouldn't get involved."

Walter relaxed ever so slightly, but only for a moment. A squelching noise began to come from the walls behind them, and he caught a glimpse of something that looked a lot like a large black blob wearing a hat appear from the wall.

"Sorry, looks like you got involved," the woman said with a sigh. Walter stiffened but kept walking as the dark masses emerged from the bricks around them. They started to ooze from the walls in front of them, sealing them in. The woman made a sharp turn and pulled him into a piece of the alley he hadn't noticed until then. "This way," she said.

She kept a grip on his arm, dragging him at a fast pace through the back streets of the noisy town. Behind them Walter could hear the monstrosities following, gaining more and more speed as they went. Once again, more grotesque creatures began to melt away from the walls in front of them, closing off their exit. And this time, Walter was certain there were no other side alleys. They were trapped.

"Hold on!" the woman shouted, grabbing Walter on both sides of his shoulders. Walter was taken aback when he saw her smiling, her eyes sparkling with excitement. All at once, he realized who she was.

Just as the things were about to reach them, closing in on both sides, together they leaped into the air, Bay's magic carrying them far higher than any normal jump. Soon they were high above the rooftops, the dark blobs tiny beneath them. Bay took both of his hands in her's and said into his ear, "Just straighten your legs, and start walking." Walter did as he was told, stretching out his legs from their folded position at his chest. Slowly at first, then to a normal pace, he and Bay began walking in sync, right foot to left, back and forth.

"See?" Bay said next to his head. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Together they floated over the enormous crowd, and Walter marveled at the sight. Couples dressed in vibrant colors twirled and danced throughout the square, flags waving and music playing. He could hear Bay laughing softly as they flew. "You're a natural," she said, her breath whispering through his hair.

Below them, the people were too absorbed in their own festivities to look up and see the sight. Walter wondered what it must look like from down there. The Witch of the Great Moving Castle teaching a scrawny little scarecrow like him how to fly over crowds of people, and blob monsters beyond his imagination. What a sight it would be if anyone had the interest to look up.

As they neared the balcony of his brother's pub , Bay's feet touched down softly on the railing, and she gently swung Walter around and set him down on his feet. "I'll draw them off," she said with a charming smile. "But you might want to wait a bit before you head back outside."

"Alright," Walter felt himself say, almost like he was under some spell. Knowing Bay for the witch she was, he very well could be.

"That's my boy," she said, letting go off his hand and stepping back into the air. She blew him a kiss, and with a wink, fell down and into the crowd far below. Walter gasped and ran to the railing, looking down into the mass of people. But Bay's shoulder-riding blue and pink jacket was no where to be found.

Downstairs, Lannie's shop was just as busy as the crowds outside. Lannie himself was sitting with his feet on a table and surrounded by friends and girls. One of bartenders made their way through the throng and whispered something in Lannie's ear. He gasped and swung his feet off the table. "He what?" he asked, obviously shocked.

A moment later Lannie was tromping up the stairs to the balcony, where Walter was looking out into the crowds. "Walter!" Lannie called, rushing to him and grabbing his shoulders. "Walter, what's going on? Someone told me you just floated down onto our balcony!"

"So that really did happen," Walter said with a sigh. "It wasn't just a dream."

The pub's fund manager poked her head into the hallway. "Lannie, you can use my office if you need to," she offered.

"No, I should really get back down there," he said breezily, giving her a wave. "Thank you though."

The girl blushed and nodded before retreating out of the hallway.

A few moments later they found some privacy tucked in a corner of a room that seemed to be made entirely made of stacked wooden boxes. Walter had just finished relaying his tale to Lannie. "Well it must have been Bay then," Lannie concluded.

"But she was so kind and understanding," Walter said. "She rescued me from those awful things, Lannie."

"Of course she did, you daffty!" Lannie exclaimed. "She was trying to get your heart! You're lucky she didn't eat it!"

"Oh, she wouldn't do that," Walter said solemnly. "She only does that to brave boys. I'm far from that."

"Oh, get off it!" Lannie said, waving a hand at him. "You've got to be more careful about that. Even the Wizard of the Wasteland is back on the hunt for 'beautiful girls'." Lannie paused a moment before looking back at Walter. "Are you listening?!"

"Hm?" Walter said, miffed at being pulled out of his thoughts for the second time today. Lannie huffed.

One of Lannie's hostesses stuck her head in through the doorway. "Lannie, that new shipment of whiskey just came in. What would you like me to do with them?" she asked.

"Oh, give them to Charlie, he's running low," Lannie said to her. "And could you grab a few for James, too?"

"No problem," the hostess said, then retreated to the bar, blushing. It seemed all of the women that worked for Lannie did that.

Walter sighed. "Well, I better get going then," he said, standing up. "I just wanted to check in with you."

Together they headed outside and into the shipment yard. Lannie grabbed Walter's arm before he could leave. "Walter, are you really sure you want to stay in that dusty old cobbler shop and spend the rest of your life making shoes?" he asked.

Walter paused for a moment. "The shop was just so important to Uncle Francis. And I'm the oldest, I don't mind keeping it open."

"I'm not asking you what Uncle Francis would have wanted," Lannie shook his head. "I'm asking what you want."

"Well..." Walter started, but one of the loading men called out to Lannie before he could finish.

"See you later, Lannie!" he called, waving.

"Good to see you again," Lannie shouted, returning the wave.

"I should be leaving," Walter said, stepping away from Lannie.

"It's your life, Walter, do something for yourself, won't you?" Lannie called out to his brother.

"Bye, Lannie," Walter avoided the question as he walked away.

As Walter made his way towards the trolley stop, a small, one person carriage was concealed behind a large building. The door in the front opened a crack, and a small cream pot was set onto the pavement. A tiny cane opened the lid and gave it a tap, and little squicks of the blob men that had followed Walter and Bay began to come out of the pavers and collect in it. Once the pot was full, the cane closed the lid and brought it back into the carriage, the door shutting. From inside a sharp rap came, and two more henchmen standing in the front and back, picked up the carriage by the handles and walked it through the back alleys.

All this was completely unknown to Walter, who had caught the trolley on the same spot he had last time; hanging off the edge of the stairs. By the time he got home, the sun had set and the streetlights had been lit. Walter fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door to the Cobbler shop. Once inside, he re-locked it and lit one of the oil lamps on the desk. He picked up a pair of un-finished shoes and was about to take them to the back when the sound of the door ringing made him look up.

Standing in front of the now closed door was a very fat man in a thick cloak and a suit that had to be custom made to fit his enormous stomach. His chest and neck all blended into another, they were so large. His face was covered, half by his dark goatee and the other by a large bowler hat that sat on his giant head. Walter set down the shoes.

"I'm sorry sir, we're closed," he said.

The man paid no heed to Walter, only stepped forward and began to examine the shop with an air of distaste. "What a tacky shop," he said, looking at their selection of boots. "I've never seen such tacky little shoes." The man looked at Walter with the same smug repulsion. "Yet you are by far the tackiest thing here."

Walter, taking offence to this, straightened his shoulders. "I'm sorry sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He made his way past the giant man, who followed him with his eyes, and opened the door for him. "The exit is this way, sir."

The man turned and looked at him with a grim smile. "Standing up to the Wizard of the Wasteland. Now that's plucky."

"The Wizard of the Wasteland!" Walter gasped, and suddenly the Wizards two henchmen appeared in front of the door, blocking his way out.

The Wizard suddenly began to fly towards Walter, arms spread out, softly cackling. He past through him like a ghost, sending a sharp chill through Walter's body. He doubled over at the sudden pain in his gut. The Wizard stepped outside. "The best part about that spell is that you can't tell anyone about it," he said slyly. "My deepest regards to Bay." And with that, all three were gone, the door shutting behind them.

Walter, meanwhile, slowly unfolded himself, the pain in his gut gone. He looked around the shop, but to his confusion, could not find anything different about it. He looked all around the room, but to no avail. Everything seemed normal. Slowly, he began to shuffle towards the back. He felt awfully weak, and his slouch seemed more exaggerated than usual. But maybe having someone pass through you was an excuse for that.

That's when he moved by the mirror.

Walter stopped and stared at his reflection. It was impossible. That couldn't be him. Slowly, he turned towards it and blinked.

The old man in the mirror did the same thing.

Walter gasped and touched his face. The skin along his cheeks and beneath his eyes sagged, and he had wrinkles everywhere. He was short, shorter than he had been in the first place. His hair had turned a startling silver-white, and his hands were ancient and gnarled. He looked back into the mirror. "That's actually me, isn't it?!" he exclaimed.

He started to walk towards the back of the shop again, but changed his mind and turned back. He decided to head back outside, mumbling to himself the whole time. "No need to panic, just keep a cool head Walter, just keep a cool head." In the cool evening air of the courtyard he began to pace back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...


	2. Searching

The next morning Market Chipping was in full bustle once again, the previous day's parade cleaned up and the war forgotten for the time being. In front of the Cobbler's shop, a steam car pulled up, the back heavy with luggage. After unloading it all, a large man with a fat, happy belly burst through the door. "Guess who's here?!" he bellowed, his great, bushy mustache quivering happily.

"You're back!" the shop boys cried, rushing to take his things.

Mr. Cobbler stuck out a foot. "What do you think? Western cowboy is all the rage in Kingsbury lately." On his foot was a tanned leather cowboy boot, with sterling silver stirrups and swirling embroidery along the sides. The shop boys ogled over them, complimenting him on his new footwear. "I know, the customers will love them!" he said, handing another shoebox to one of the boys. "Walter? Walter!" he called out, looking into his son's empty work space.

"I'm sorry, sir. Your son hasn't been in all day," one of the boys said.

"Well, that's odd," Mr. Cobbler said, then went to go check on the adjoining house next door. Inside Walter's room, the old man himself sat with a blanket wrapped around his frail body. He had only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, and he was exhausted. A banging came from outside his closed door. "Walter!" he father called in.

"Don't come in, I've got a bad cold!" he answered, not bothering to cover up his old man voice. "I wouldn't want you to catch it!"

Outside, Mr. Cobbler pulled back from the door. "Son, you sound awful!" he said. "Like some ancient old man!"

"I think I'll just stay in bed today. You go on," Walter said from inside his room.

"Well then, if you insist," Mr. Cobbler said, then walked back down the stairs and into the shop.

Meanwhile, Walter had decided it was time to get out of bed. "Up we go," he mumbled to himself, the blanket slipping off him and onto the bed. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he hobbled on over to his small table and mirror. He looked at his reflection and blinked. He was definitely shorter, and his silver-gray hair had receded away from his brow. "Well this isn't so bad, is it?" he asked himself, smiling a little for the first time that day. "You're still in pretty good shape, and your clothes still fit you just fine." Downstairs in the adjoining shop, he could hear the boys laughing together as they started the days work. "But you can't stay here for very much longer like this," he mumbled to himself, glancing at his closed door.

He changed into a fresh pair of clothes (he hadn't bothered to change last night and had slept in the previous day's outfit) and grabbed his jacket and flat cap before opening the door a crack. After making sure no one was upstairs, he quietly slipped out and shut the door. He made his way down the stairs carefully, with what seemed like every bone in his body creaking in protest to his sneaky movements.

Once downstairs he grabbed a red dishcloth and filled it with some bread and cheese for the journey to wherever he was going. He tied the corners together and then left through the back door. Outside was a gaggle of women crowded over one of the penny-papers, talking out the latest news from the capital. "It says that their princess is missing," one of them said, leaning in closer. "And they're blaming us for it!"

"Unbelievable!" another exclaimed.

"Yeah, it says they're going to declare war on us!" A different woman said.

"Oh how terrible," the first one moaned. "Nobody wants a war, it would be awful."

"Well let's hope the princess turns up soon," the third worried.

Walter continued his trip, hobbling over the old bridge that crossed above the railroad tracks. Just as he was about halfway across, the train itself came chugging along the tracks, sending up a huge cloud of smoke over the bridge. Walter came coughing out of the smoke, where there was a young boy on the other side. "Excuse me sir, would you like some help?" he asked.

"No thank you, I'll be fine," he said, making his way off the bridge.

A little while later Walter stood in front of two horses pulling a cart stacked high with bales of hay. "Yeah, there's some room in the back," the driver said, jabbing a thumb towards the back of the cart. "But where are you headed?"

"Just a little farther than where you're going," Walter answered, and a few moments later he was swaying along on the back of the cart, headed away from town and into the Wastelands.

Once they made it as far as an old farming house, Walter got off and began heading down the path that lead into the Wastelands. "You're crazy if you're going out there, Grandpa," a woman in the garden called out to him as he began to walk away. "Nothing out there but witches and wizards."

"Thank you, I'll remember that," Walter called over his shoulder, continuing on despite the woman's warnings.

"He's going to the Wasteland by himself?" Her husband asked, leading a horse into the yard.

"He says he's looking for his brother," she answered, shrugging.

Walter left the couple scratching at their heads and made his way steadily down the path. But after a little ways the path began to go up a steep hill. He soon found himself panting as he continued. Finally deciding to take a break, Walter sat down in the deep spring grass and began to chew on some of the cheese and bread he had packed himself. From here he had a lovely view of all of Market Chipping.

"This is going to take ages if I keep going at this speed," he mumbled to himself. He took another bite of his food. "At least my teeth are still working properly." As he continued to look around, he spotted a sturdy branch poking out of a thick bush. "Well that would make a nice cane," he acknowledged , setting down his food and standing up. Once he had hobbled over to the bush, he grabbed hold of the branch and gave it a tug, but it stuck fast. He sighed. "It might be too big," he mumbled, pulling on it again with more strength. He adjusted his grip on it and pulled even harder, but even still it did not move. He took a few breaths of the hillside air before mumbling, "Well, one suborn branch isn't getting the best of this old guy." Putting all his strength into it, Walter pulled with all his might. With a finally pull, the branch came out of the bush and stood on the end that Walter had just let go of.

Only it wasn't a branch. It was a scarecrow. Its yellow dress whipped in the wind and it wore a pair of old white gloves, and a straw hat with a pink ribbon around it. Walter gasped and shrunk away, but then realized what it was and stopped. "It's just a scarecrow!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were one of the Wizard's henchman! But how are you standing on your own like that?" The scarecrow just looked at him with blank eyes and a wide smile drawn with charcoal. Walter stared back at it until realizing what this scarecrow was made of.

"Your head is a turnip," he said, frowning. "I've always hated turnips, even when I was little." The scarecrow just kept on staring at Walter blankly. "Well, at least you're not upside down anymore," he said, turning back towards his things. "So long."

About half an hour after his encounter with the scarecrow, the wind had picked up, and Walter was still going, having no place to stay for the night. "Oh, it's too cold," he mumbled to himself. "And I've barely moved, I can still see the town."

That's when he heard the hopping.

Walter looked behind him towards the sound and blinked. There, coming towards him, was the scarecrow from before, hopping on her one pole and had something hanging from her arm. "Go away!" Walter said, alarmed. "Stop following me, there's no need to thank me. I'm sure there's some sort of spell on you, and I've had more than enough of sorcery and spells." The scarecrow had stopped. "So just go find some field and stand in it!" Walter said over the wind, then turned back around and kept on going up the hill. The scarecrow stood for a minute, almost like it was watching him, before ignoring Walters request and hopped after

Jul 7, 2014With the wind going against him, Walter was still making hardly any progress. The scarecrow however was much faster and caught up with him once more. Walter had slowed to a stop, and Turniphead dropped a cane by his side. The top was shaped like a bird's head and painted yellow. Walter took it in his hand, and it fit perfectly.

"Thank you, this is wonderful!" he said to Turniphead gratefully. "If you could do me one more thing, could you run and find me a place to stay? It's quite cold out here." The scarecrow stood for a moment, her dress swirling in the wind, before turning around and heading back the way it came, Walter waving at her as she left. When she was gone, Walter snickered to himself. "I seemed to become quite cunning in my old age."

Soon he began to regret not having the scarecrow with him. The wind was stronger than ever, and it was so could there was even a bit of snow falling from the sky. Walter was panting the thin mountain air and was forced to sit down and rest , wrapping his jacket around him tighter. After catching his breath, the sharp smell of wood smoke filled his nostrils. "Smells like a fire," he said, turning towards the smell and getting up. "Maybe there's a cabin nearby."

Just as he was coming over the top of the hill, a loud noise began to mix with the wind, and suddenly there was a giant mash of rooms, boilers and engines walking towards him on skinny metal legs that squeaked and let out steam with every step they took. Walter gasped at the sight.

Just before the thing was about to come right up to him, who should come hopping up but Turniphead herself. "You moron, that's Bay's Castle!" Walter asked with wide eyes. "That is not what I meant when I asked for a place to stay!"

Suddenly that whole Castle was right above them. Coming out of the bottom of the belly was an entryway, with a few stairs and a door. "Is that the way in?" Walter asked, running towards it. The Castle was still moving at an amazing speed for something so huge. Walter managed to grab the railing along the sides of the entry but it was still to high for him to jump onto. "Make up your mind, do you want me to get on or not?" Walter yelled at the castle. With a sudden lurch the bottom of the entry swept Walter up onto the platform, his flat cap flying off into the wind in the process. "My hat!" Walter yelled after it, but turned around anyway and opened the door to the Castle.

Inside Walter's view was blocked by a long staircase leading up to the first floor. Though he couldn't see much, he noticed the soft glow of a gentle fire, and the room was warm and cozy. He turned back towards where Turniphead had gone. "It's nice and warm in here, so I think I'll go inside," he said as the scarecrow caught up with him, his cap in hand. "Oh, my hat! Thank you!" he said, taking it from her. But the Castle was proving too fast for Turniphead to keep up with, and she began to fall behind. "It was a pleasure meeting you, even if you are built from my least favorite vegetable. So long, Turniphead!" And with that, Walter turned around and went inside.

Once inside, Walter slowly lifted his head above the stairway and took a look around. No one was about, so he looked a bit higher. He was in what seemed to be the living room, which consisted of a rickety table stacked high with miscellaneous items, a sofa in a corner, and a small wooden chair in front of a dwindling fire.

Checking one more time to make sure he was alone, Walter climbed the rest of the steps and proceeded to sit in front of the tiny fire, sighing as he took the weight of his tired old legs. He looked at the fire and, noticing how there was very little wood in it, took two small logs and threw them on top of it. The fire caught to it greedily as Walter sat down and looked around him.

"What a dump," Walter mumbled as he settled back into his seat. "This is not what I imagine when I hear the word 'castle'. It looks like a bomb went off."

He wasn't too far off in his description. The tables legs were warped from holding the weight of everything on top of it, and the shelves had papers and bottles shoved into the cubbies. Spiders and their webs hung from everything, and the only light came from the tiny little fire in front of him. Walter settled into his chair and mumbled to himself, "Well, at least nothing scares you much when you're old."

Walter felt his eyes getting heavy as he stared at the fire that was now blazing contently, to the point where he thought he saw two eyes open in the flames. He smiled at this interesting delusion, and his eyes had almost closed all the way when a voice said, "I gotta tell you, man, that is one bad curse."

Walter's eyes flew open and suddenly he was wide awake. He hadn't been imagining it, the fire really had gained a face and was now talking to her in a little male voice. "Curses like that are pretty tough to get rid of, your going to have a hard time with that one," it said as if nothing were unusual.

Walter's eyes widened even more. "The fire spoke," he whispered.

"Let me guess, the curse won't let you talk about?" the face in the flames said.

Walter ignored his question. "Are you Bay? Perhaps in another form?" he asked, leaning in.

"No, I am an extremely powerful fire demon, named Calcifer!" he exclaimed the last part, new flames bursting from his mouth dramatically. He looked like he was next to blushing. "I just like to do that sometimes," he mumbled.

"A fire demon!" Walter exclaimed. "Then you must be able to help break my curse."

Calcifer looked thoughtful. "Maybe, maybe not," he said. "Listen, if you can find a way to break the spell binding me, than I can help break the spell that's on you."

"If you're a demon how do I know I can trust you?" Walter said slyly. "Do you promise to help me if I help you?"

Calcifer gave what looked like a shrug. "Eh, I don't know man, demons don't make promises."

Walter sighed and settled back. "Then go find someone else."

"Come on, you should feel sorry for me!" Calcifer exclaimed. "This stinking spell keeps me trapped here and Bay treats me like a slave, it just burns me up! Always keep the water hot, make the rooms warm, keep the castle moving, come on! You ever tried to move a castle?" Walter's eyes were growing heavy again and he felt himself beginning to nod off during Calcifer's rant. "So how about this?" Calcifer finally concluded. "If you can figure out how to free me from this... contract I'm in with Bay, than I will figure out how to break the curse that's on you."

"Alright, we have a deal," Walter mumbled before slipping into a chorus of snores and a fitful sleep.


	3. Castle

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Walter, the bay town of Porthaven was having a similar parade to that which Market Chippings had only a few days previous. Large war ships blew their horns and they all filed out of the bay, people cheering and waving flags and hats at them as they left. One well dressed man was not participating, however, but making his way up a steep hill, being followed by another soldier in blue. They approached a small building that read, 'The Incredible Sorceress Jenkins' above the door.

Walter, still inside the castle, was woken up to the sound of banging on the door which he had come through the night before. He sat up, cringing as his back settled into position. The pounding of little feet made him look towards the staircase and the sight of a young girl made him quickly return to the position he had been in while sleeping and begin fake snoring.

He opened his eyes just a crack and saw the little girl looking at him with her nose wrinkled. "Hey, who's this guy?" she asked. The girl couldn't have been more than ten, maybe eleven, and was wearing a white shirt with a short green dress over it, her little pink stockings clearly visible and stuffed into a pair of black shoes.

Calcifer ignored the question. "Porthaven door," he called, and the little girl rushed out of Walter's sight to the overflowing table. She grabbed a little red cloak and threw it over her shoulders, pulling the hood up as she made for the door. Once the hood had completely covered her face, her young features turned old and wrinkly, her eyes a dark gray and her skin sagging, giving the illusion of her being a little old hag.

"Stand by," she croaked, making her way down the stairs. She twisted a little knob on the door where the lock should have been, and the dial at the top of the stairs flipped from the green swatch to the blue one. She opened the door to reveal the well dressed man and the soldier standing at the threshold. "Mr. Mayor, good day to you," she said, looking up at them.

"Good afternoon, grandmother," the fancy man said to her. "Would the Incredible Jenkins be at home?"

"I am afraid my Miss is out for the day, but I'll be glad to carry on a message," the hag said as Walter began to sit up again behind them.

The mayor handed her an envelope. "An invitation from her Highness the Queen herself," he said as she took it. "The time to take action is now. All witches and wizards are to report for battle and defend our homeland. Miss Jenkins _must_ join our ranks. That is all."

The door shut behind him, and Walter sat up and fed Calcifer a few more logs. "I can't believe it's come to war, of all things," he mumbled, pulling his jacket tighter.

The hag glared at him. "What do you think you're up to, Grandpa?" she asked.

Walter smiled at her. "Calcifer invited me in."

Calcifer flared to life. "I did not! He just wandered on in from the Wastelands."

"He's from the Wastelands?" she said, pulling off her hood and returning her face back to the young girl's it really was. "How do we know he's not a wizard?"

"Psha," Calcifer scoffed. "You really think I would let a sorcerer in here?" Another knock rang through the room. "Porthaven door again, Margret!"

"Must be a customer," the girl said, tossing the letter onto the table and returning her hood and illusion. "Stand by," she called again, then opened the door. Standing in front of it was a little boy with short blond hair that could have been only slightly younger than the girl was. "Yes, my child?"

"My mum sent me to pick up a potion she ordered," the boy said.

"Oh, yes, that one," Margret said. "Please, do come in."

The two came up the stairs, Margret glaring at Walter with a look that made him fall back into his seat. The little boy, however, stopped at the top of the stairs and blinked at him. Walter looked back, but his attention was drawn to the window. He stood, brushing past the boy to the windowsill. The boy's eyes followed his every move. Outside, the sun was shining on a small town with seagulls flying overhead, the sun's rays glittering down on the endless stretch of ocean. Walter gasped. They had been in the Wastelands only yesterday, and that was miles inland. There was no way they could be here this early, it would take days. Yet here they were. Walter was dumbfounded, to say the least.

"Excuse me, Grandfather," the boys said respectively behind him. "Are you a necromancer too?"

Walter turned to the boy and decided to run with it. "Oh yes," he said, "I'm the scariest wizard of them all!"

The boy smiled and gave a nervous laugh. Just then Margret the Hag handed him a small package. "Dust this on your ship with this powder, and the sea and wind will favor it."

While the boy thanked her and paid up, something tugged at the back of Walter's mind. Is that what they considered Bay? A necromancer? Walter never considered Bay a user of black magic, but being as mysterious as she was, it was entirely possible.

"Farewell, child," Margret called to the boy as he left. As soon as the door swung shut, she turned and glowered at Walter. "Quit lying to our customers!" she said, pocketing the newly acquired money.

"What about you?" Walter exclaimed. "You're wearing a disguise!"

"I have to. I'm practicing my magic," Margret said, throwing off her hood. The bell rang yet again, and they both turned towards the door.

"This one's the Kingsbury door!" Calcifer yelled from behind them.

Margret gave one last look at Walter before replacing her ruse yet again. "Stand by." She turned the little knob above the door handle, and the dial spun again, this time to the red swatch. She pulled open the door to reveal a man in a red uniform wearing the short cape of the Queen's guard standing with his hat under his arm.

"Good day," he said pleasantly. "Would this be the residence of the Sorceress Pendragon?"

"It is," Margret said with a nod.

"I come bearing an invitation from her Highness, the Queen," the man said as Walter came from behind Margret to look outside past him. "There has been a decree that all witches and wizards are to report for duty at the palace."

"I will inform my Miss as soon as she returns," Margret said, taking the envelope. The man gave a small bow toward her before smartly turning on his heel and walking into the busy streets of Kingsbury. Walter gasped. With only a switch of a knob they had somehow transported from Porthaven to the other side of the country, they were in the capital! From inside their little building they were in, there was a wonderful view of the castle, planes flying and flags waving above it.

While Walter stood in awe at the Royal City, Margret turned back into the house like she did every day. "Come on, Grandpa, or you'll lose your nose!" Reluctantly Walter backed up into the Castle again before Margret slammed the heavy wooden door shut. "And stop wandering around," she said as she took off the cloak and went back up the stairs.

Walter got a sly look on his face. He turned to make sure that the girl wasn't looking, then put a hand on the knob and turned it. The dial on the wall went from red to green. Putting all his weight into it, he pulled on the handle and eventually it swung open. A cool breeze blew in, and Walter peeked his head outside to the foggy Wastelands. He looked around for a minute, then closed the door, eager to try again. He flipped it to the blue one again and stepped back outside into the lovely Porthaven sun. Walter felt a smile coming on as he backed into the castle yet again. As his fingers twisted the knob, Margret came and leaned over the railing. "Leave it alone, Grandpa," she said. "I'm getting angry."

Walter turned to look up at her. "This is a magic door, isn't it?" he said, ignoring her. "So tell me, where does the black one lead?"

Margret gave an aggravated huff. "Only Miss Bay knows that," she said, turning and walking to the overly-crowded table. "I'm staved," the little girl mumbled, pulling some cheese and a loaf of bread out of a nearby drawer.

Walter looked at a basket filled with eggs and raw bacon sitting on the table. "Don't you want some real food instead?" he asked her.

"Yeah, but we can't use the fire," Margret said, making some room for her to set down the food. "Miss Bay isn't here."

Walter picked up the basket and grabbed a skillet hanging from the wall. "No problem, I can cook," he said simply as he walked towards Calcifer.

"That doesn't matter!" Margret said. "Calcifer only listens to Miss Bay!"

"That's right, old man, I ain't taking any orders from you!" Calcifer said, sticking his tongue out at Walter.

Walter ignored him. "Alright then, let's get cooking."

Calcifer glared at him. "I don't cook, I'm a scary and ferocious fire demon!" he exclaimed, flaring up and making himself look impressive.

"How about a bucket of cold water on you?" Walter asked. "Or maybe I should tell Bay about our little deal?" he said a little more quietly.

"O-oh! Stupid me, I never should have let you in here!" he said, leaping up in anger.

"So, what will it be?" Walter asked, placing the pan on top of the fire demon. Calcifer protested and resisted, but in the end he was put into a low cooking fire. Walter smiled in his triumph before starting to lay out the strips of meat on the warm skillet.

Calcifer's grumpy face looked at her from beneath the pan. "Here's another curse," he mumbled with malice. "May all your bacon burn."

Just then the dial above the door switched to the black quarter, and the door opened. Margret, who was searching for a kettle, leaned over and saw the familiar blue and pink jacket make its way up the stairs. "Miss Bay!" she said, "The Queen's messengers were here. They said you must report to the palace, as both Pendragon and Jenkins."

Walter looked up from the hearth and gave a small gasp as he recognized the blond head. He recovered quickly though and returned to the job at hand. Bay made her way over to him and watched for a moment. "Calcifer?" she said with that same passive smile she always seemed to be wearing , "You're being so obedient."

Calcifer blazed beneath the skillet. "I'm not trying to, he bullied me!" he cried.

"Not just anyone can do that." Bay said thoughtfully. She didn't elaborate. Instead she turned to Walter. "And you are..."

"Uh, you can just call me Grandpa Walter, I'm the Castle's new hired help, I just started work today," Walter improvised. This place could use a little cleaning up, and Walter's OCD side was perfect for the job.

"Let me see that," Bay said, stepping in and taking the pan and spoon from Walter. He moved out of the way next to the food basket. "Hand me two more slices of bacon, and six more of those eggs," she said, making room for them on the skillet and holding it towards Walter. He blinked for a moment, then reached for the meat. Once they were laid out and back on the fire, Bay held out her hand and Walter placed an egg in it. She smartly cracked it on the stone hearth and used one hand to pour it into the skillet. Calcifer was more than happy to take care of the shells for her, gobbling them up greedily.

Bay spoke to Walter while the eggs cooked. "So then, who hired you?"

"Oh, uh, Calcifer did," Walter said, handing her another egg. "He's repulsed by how dirty it is here."

"Hm," was all Bay said. "Margret, get the plates!"

"Wait, you're going to eat while I do all the work?!" Calcifer exclaimed.

"Come and eat, Walter," Margret invited him to the now set table.

Walter nodded and took a seat at the newly cleared spot on the table as Calcifer fumed in the hearth.

"Which do you want?" Margret said, holding out two spoons and a fork to Walter. "You only get one because the rest are dirty."

Walter picked the cleaner looking spoon, rubbing it with his jacket. "Looks like I have my work cut out for me," he mumbled.

Bay was slicing a loaf of bread. "Bread, Margret?" she offered her a piece. She held one out across the table. "Walter?"

"Yes, thank you," he said, accepting the bread.

Bay lifted her cup of tea. "So friends, enjoy," she said.

"Bon appetit!" Margret said happily, digging into her food. "I can't remember the last time we had a real breakfast!" Even as she said this, she began shoveling food into her mouth, eating as eagerly as Calcifer did his egg shells.

Walter watched with a disgusted fascination. "Even the manners here a mess," he mumbled.

"So, Walter, what's that in your pocket?" Bay asked casually, looking at him with her incredible blue eyes.

Walter looked up from his food. He didn't have anything in his pocket, last he checked. But he reached into his trouser pocket anyway and pulled out a small red paper folded in half. He cocked his head to the side. "What's this?" he said, perplexed.

"Let me see," Bay said, reaching out. Walter moved to give it to her. The moment the note touched Bay's fingers, however, it sparked and sent black and purple flames flickering up her arm. It landed on the table gently, the symbols on it dissolving the paper and burning it onto the wood table.

Margret gasped. "Scorch marks! Bay, can you read them?"

"That is ancient sorcery, and quite powerful at that," she said as she rubbed her hand, that aggravating smile still on her face. She always seemed to keep her cool, Walter noticed.

"Is it from the Wizard of the Wasteland?" Margret asked.

Bay ignored her, instead reading the message. "'You who swallowed a falling star, oh heartless witch, your heart will soon belong to me.' That can't be good for the table," she said. She placed a hand over the symbol and slowly swept the burn marks away, more dark flames scattering as she did. Soon all that was left of the message was a maroon smoke floating over the table.

"Wow, it's gone!" said Margret in amazement.

"The mark may be gone, but the spell still remains," Bay said, pulling her coat back onto her shoulders and standing up. "Excuse me, friends, please continue eating." Bay made her way to Calcifer in two long strides. "Calcifer, move the Castle 50 miles to the east," she said, scraping her barely eaten meal into his open mouth. She set down her plate and started up the stairs. When she was almost to the top, she paused and leaned over the banister. "And while you're at it, make some hot water for my bath," she added, then disappeared up the last few steps while Calcifer grumbled a complaint.

Walter, who had been watching Bay this whole time, then caught Margret eyeing her suspiciously. "You don't happen to be working for the Wizard of the Wasteland, do you?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

That, in Walter's book, was a very serious offence. "I would never work for that awful man!" he exclaimed. "He's the one who mm mmhm..." At this point Walter was incapable of saying anything else. His lips had suddenly sealed shut like a zipper the minute he tried to say a word about the curse. And no matter what he did, he couldn't open his mouth. In a fit of rage he slammed his fists on the table. Margret saved her food just in time, pulling it away from the shaking table, clearly surprised. "If I ever see that sorcerer I'm going to wring his fat neck!" he shouted, his mouth finally able to move. He shot a look at Margret. "Finish your breakfast," he said, then began devouring his own food.


End file.
